


Glory's Last Dance

by A_Lesson_Youll_Never_Forget



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 13:03:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5786227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Lesson_Youll_Never_Forget/pseuds/A_Lesson_Youll_Never_Forget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the Brotherhood of Steel launch an assault on the Old North Church, only one Synth stands between the Railroad and total annihilation. Can Glory hold off the Brotherhood long enough to ensure the survival of the Railroad, or will she too fall beneath a steel boot?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glory's Last Dance

Desdemona glared at Glory as she grabbed her minigun and descended into the catacombs beyond the Railroad HQ. Deacon stood beside her, silent for once as the heavy strode off to fight the oncoming Brotherhood forces. “We have to go,” hissed Doctor Carrington, hurrying past the two of them towards the escape tunnel. “I ordered her not to go.” Growled Desdemona as Deacon glanced at the Doctor. “’Course you did boss, did you expect her to listen?” He replied. “We should be helping her.” Des sighed and remembered the steely determination set in Glory’s eyes as she defied that last order. Desdemona turned to the escape tunnel reluctantly. “Glory can handle herself, come on,” insisted Deacon. 

By the time Glory reached them, the few remaining Railroad heavies in the catacombs were already dead. She recognised both of them; one was a veteran, the other a new recruit. Both had been gunned down, their bodies covered in a dozen laser burns. They hadn’t stood a chance. “Brotherhood sons of bitches.” Glory snarled, checking the corpses for any ammo or Stimpaks they may have been carrying. She took a ten mill pistol from one of them and tucked it into her bandolier, and then continued down the dark passage, cursing the Brotherhood for forcing her to loot her fallen compatriots. If she had her way, no more Railroad members would die today. 

The sound of metal boots stamping on dirt was the first sign that Glory was nearing her objective. For a moment, she faltered, her self-assured grimace breaking. That sound, that relentless sound of steel grinding on gravel…she felt like she was back in the Institute, alongside a team of Coursers hunting down an escaped Synth. She saw the terrified eyes, the features frozen as a hail of blue laser fire ripped through them…and then she was Glory once more, the trance broken. She laid her minigun on the ground and quickly pulled the pin on a grenade, rolling it around the corner. 

“Hey,” came the voice from one of the Brotherhood Knights. Seconds later came the explosion. The catacombs were filled with dust and the unmistakable scents of gunpowder and blood. The grenade bought her maybe ten seconds; by the time she had her gun up ready to fire, the soldiers were beginning to turn the corner. “Come and get it, you sons of bitches.” She grunted, biting her lip and squeezing the trigger. The barrels on her minigun began to spin up. Glory willed them to turn faster. A line of red streaked through the air and scorched the wall behind her, sending up a small puff of crimson dust. 

After what seemed like an eternity, the weapon reached an appropriate velocity. If the seconds leading up to that moment had happened at one tenth speed, everything after the bullets began to fire happened in double time. The barrels span incessantly, spitting forth a red hot hail of death into the oncoming Knights. Their armour only protected them so much, and by the time each man fell he was riddled with at least two dozen holes. As each round was fired, the spent casing ejected from the gun and landed on the ground with an inaudible metallic ping. It seemed to Glory as though she had killed maybe twenty of them, but when the power armoured soldiers stopped coming she counted only four bodies, plus a fifth around the corner with its arm torn off at the shoulder thanks to her grenade. The scene of gory death barely phased her; had it been a synth lying there in pieces by her own hand, things would have been different. 

“This is what you get for fucking with the Railroad.” Glory muttered, aiming a kick in the direction of the armless corpse. She quickly scanned the bodies for anything useful, grabbing a laser rifle and several cells. Almost as an afterthought, she slipped a fragmentation mine under one of the bodies and armed it, and not a second too soon; she heard voices approaching, almost drowned out by the clanking of armoured boots. “No word back from the advanced party?” Asked one voice. “No, sir. We haven’t heard anything.” Replied a second voice, this one female. “Fine. Keep pushing; be careful, we’re going in blind.” Said the first voice again. All along the stretch of corridor, numerous voices replied in sync, “Yes, sir.” Glory grunted; that was more than five men. Not that it mattered; they could send as many as they wanted, she’d kill them all. 

Glory retreated back along the passage slightly, finding a wider, more open area with a few destroyed sections of wall she could hide behind. She took cover, and waited for the blast that would signal the arrival of the main assault force, the force that would see the Railroad, and every synth in the Commonwealth, to ruin. Unless she could stop them. While she waited for the inevitable battle, Glory reflected on the two dead Railroad members she’d seen further back along the Catacombs, and wondered how many more lay scattered throughout. Silently, she promised her fallen brothers and sisters that she’d kill ten Brotherhood of Steel soldiers for every one of them. She wouldn’t have to wait long to make good on that promise. 

“Sir, that must be the advanced team.” Came the female voice Glory had heard earlier. “Go check it out, Haylen.” Ordered the first voice. Glory knew what was coming, but the blast still deafened her when it happened. The female, Haylen, was killed instantly, shredded by the hundreds of pieces of shrapnel that ejected from the mine. The entire cave system seemed to shake and rumble, and a few lumps of rock and dust fell from the ceiling. “HAYLEN!” Cried the man’s voice, clearly distressed. “Good,” Glory thought, “let him feel what I felt.” 

The commander of the Brotherhood forces gave one final order. “Okay, advance. But keep your wits about you, we don’t know what those Synth-loving bastards have got waiting for us.” As the marching resumed, Glory pressed the trigger on her minigun down slightly, enough to spin up the barrels. This time, she waited until several of the Knights had emerged into the open area that was her line of fire before bursting from her cover and raining hell upon them. She mowed down the first wave, cutting several of the attackers apart outright and then turning her attention on those that tried to flee. A couple of them reached the safety of the narrower passage, but nearly ten had fallen to Glory’s minigun. “That all you got, motherfuckers?” She yelled down into the corridor. 

The Brotherhood response came in the form of a second wave, consisting of the survivors from the first, as well as several fresh soldiers. Glory jumped into action once again, hammering on the trigger. When the minigun gave a distinct, echoing click instead of firing, the entire cavern seemed to hear it, despite the overwhelming din. “Shit.” Glory yelped, throwing the empty gun aside and diving back behind cover. She wasn’t quite quick enough, and a laser bolt slammed into her shoulder. She grunted, the wound burning away at her synthetic flesh. 

She grabbed the laser rifle she’d taken from the dead scout, checked it was loaded, and pushed herself up on one knee, ignoring the pain in her shoulder. Glory opened fire, sending one Knight down with several laser blasts to the chest, and another with a single precise shot through the head. Two dead, but that wouldn’t be enough. After several more Knights fell, Glory slung the rifle down and held it at the hip, firing wildly but keeping the soldiers at bay. She pulled out the pistol she’d grabbed earlier and soon the Brotherhood invaders were dropping to a mixture of bullets and laser fire. 

As the battle wore on, Glory began to tire. No matter how many she killed, more Brotherhood troops were waiting just around the corner. She took one shot to the thigh, and another to the stomach, and soon she could feel burning from almost a dozen different points on her body. Finally, the shot came that knocked her back, sending her sprawling into the dirt. Her rifle and pistol fell from her hands, and, had she been human, the air would have been knocked out of her. Thankfully though, Glory wasn’t human, and she grabbed her pistol, rolled over, and emptied the magazine into the last two Knights. 

They both dropped, riddled with bullets. Glory pushed herself to her feet, grunting as each movement aggravated her every wound. But it was over; somehow, against all the odds, she’d defeated the Brotherhood of Steel. Glory brushed aside a strand of loose white hair, and looked over all the bodies she’d left. Human, she reminded herself, and each one of them there to kill her friends. To kill synths. The pistol fell from her fingers, empty, and she was about to make her way back to the others when she heard a footstep behind her. One single step. When she turned, it was to find herself staring down the barrel of a laser rifle. 

“Shit,” Glory spat. “I’m Paladin Danse, and these were my men and women you killed.” Said the man. Glory recognised the voice from before; this was the leader. She hadn’t quite killed all of them after all. Not yet. “I’m Glory, and you’re here to kill my friends.” She replied, fighting the urge to attack; if she did, it would mean her death. “Kill? You mean destroy. You synths aren’t alive.” Sneered the Paladin. “You’re a blight on the Commonwealth, and-“ Danse’s words were cut off as the stock of his rifle smashed into his nose. At least one tooth flew from his mouth, along with a spatter of blood. Glory tried to pull the weapon from his hands, but the man was stronger than she’d anticipated. Instead, the laser rifle fell to the floor and skidded away from them. 

Danse wasn’t fazed, and Glory felt an armoured fist slam straight into her face, followed by another to her jaw. She saw stars and staggered back, waving her arms in front of her to keep the Paladin at bay. She regained herself quickly, and ducked sideways to avoid his next punch. Glory caught her foe’s arm and swept it down before driving her elbow into his unprotected head. Once Danse was on the backfoot, Glory pressed her advantage, raining punches and kicks on the Paladin, driving him towards the wall. She kicked him in the stomach and he hit the bricks hard. He moved quicker than she’d have expected from someone so heavily armoured, rolling along the wall. Instead of meeting his flesh, Glory’s fist slammed into solid brick. “Ah!” She grunted, pain rolling up her arm in waves. 

Danse took hold of her head from behind and pushed forward, pounding her face into the wall before yanking on her hair, pulling her back, and repeating the process. She felt her synthetic nose break, saw blood fly, and realised she had to stop him. As he made to force her forward once more, she twisted free of his grasp, ignoring the pain as her hair was torn from her hair. Clumps of white floated down through the air, twisting and turning gracefully, unaware of the violence unfurling before them. “Die!” Danse growled, swiping a vicious backhand towards Glory. She turned the blow aside and kicked him in the leg, driving him down onto one knee. 

Danse threw a lazy punch up at her, but she was waiting. Using all her strength, she grabbed his hand, worked her fingers inside his armour, and tore the glove and wrist from the suit, casting it aside. She punched him square in the face and continued battering him, sealing her victory in a flurry of fists. She strolled across the room, grabbing a dagger from one of the fallen Knights, and returned to her beaten foe. Danse glared up at her, his face a bloody mess, only one eye open. Glory raised her knife. “Do it, synth bitch.” He grunted. She looked him in the eye, and was about to strike the finishing blow when she saw something in Danse’s one good eye. A faint glow, a slight hint that would be imperceptible to anyone that didn’t know how to spot a synth. But Glory did. 

She hesitated, and Danse lunged up, driving his armoured palm into her gut with an empty thud, before grabbing the dagger with his naked hand and plunging it down into her spine. Blood gushed, and Glory felt a sudden hot flush followed by a feeling of cold. Everything felt cold. She collapsed down into the dirt, but felt no pain, she didn’t even feel the impact. Danse stood over her, clutching his injured arm. “You had me?” He asked between grunts of pain. “Why did you hesitate?” Glory smiled slightly, knowing that with her last words she could destroy this man’s life. “You’re,” she began, blood bubbling from her mouth. She finished the sentence quietly, and Danse knelt down to be closer to her. “You’re…a synth.”


End file.
